


mine that's

by the_garbage_will_do



Series: teensy reylo fixes [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cooking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Fix-It, Implied Pregnancy, No Spoilers, Past Child Abuse, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warning: Cuteness overload, i put rey and ben solo and baby yoda and porgs in one fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21932503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_garbage_will_do/pseuds/the_garbage_will_do
Summary: After the war, Rey and Ben adopt Baby Yoda.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: teensy reylo fixes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633153
Comments: 16
Kudos: 122
Collections: The_Multishipper_Post_TROS_Happy_Place_Collection





	mine that's

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abeyance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abeyance/gifts).



> Written as a Reylo Secret Santa gift for [abeyance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abeyance/pseuds/abeyance) in those faraway days before TRoS came out. I really hope you like this! Happy holidays 💕

“Mindas.”

Rey shoots Ben a puzzled frown. He shrugs, equally lost.

“Min- _thats!”_

Raising a fuzzy green hand, the child reaches for a nearby doll— a crude figure, armored with scrap metal. Once Rey hands it over he burbles with joy, wiggling ears even more oversized than Ben’s.

Threepio intervenes. “This species utilizes inverted syntax. ‘Mine that’s’ may be uncontracted to ‘Mine that is,’ which clearly means ‘that is mine.’”

“...Are we ready for this?” Rey looks to Ben.

“We have no permanent residence, no life plans, and no non-fatal experience with children. What do you think?”

She grins and looks to the head of the orphanage. “We’ll adopt him.”

.

When Rey takes the child to a pediatric med-droid, she returns to the smell of simmering soup. “Sorry,” she winces, “he already ate supper.”

Ben turns from the stove. “What?”

“There was a Worrt hopping in front of us, and...then there wasn’t.”

“Aren’t Worrts _larger_ than him?”

“Er. I might’ve stolen a couple bites,” Rey admits. “It smelled delicious.”

He scrunches up his face in skepticism.

“I’ll have your soup too! I feel like I could eat a bantha.”

“I’ll find a recipe for that.” Ben’s scowl melts away to pure tenderness. “Can’t have you going hungry.”

.

Paperwork complete, Rey and Ben board the Falcon. The child toddles up behind them, gazing at the ship’s other small inhabitants.

“These,” Rey says, “are Porgs. Play nice with them.”

“Eat them all,” Ben mutters, only to be elbowed in the ribs.

The Porgs caw in greeting. The child waits a moment before imitating the sound, trilling gleefully.

“I’ll transmit his exit clearance,” Rey says. “Watch him?”

Ben nods and lowers himself to sit cross-legged by his charge. The child waddles in and out of the Falcon’s cockpit, prodding buttons, tugging at exposed wires.

“Mine that’s?” He points to an innocuous strip of tape.

Ben hesitates. “Sure.”

By the time Rey returns, the child has pried off that bit of tape and several others and repurposed them to stick all six of his fingers together. She frowns at him, and then at Ben.

“You let him have the bonding tape.”

“Yeah.”

“The bonding tape that was single-handedly holding our navicomputer together.”

“Are you kriff—” Ben catches himself, newly aware of the impressionable child gazing wide-eyed at him. “Are you _kidding_ me?”

Rey flips the ignition switch. The Falcon lets out a degenerate whir and an angry _thunk._

 _“Why_ ,” he fumes, “are we still keeping this pile of broken trash?”

“Don’t give up hope.” Rey kneels by the child and carefully unsticks the tape from his fingers. “Saving broken trash is my speciality.”

She reaches to brush the scar fracturing Ben’s face, now nearly healed.

.

Ben places a plate of freshly fried frog legs on the child’s high chair, before returning to the rootleaf stew Rey’s been inexplicably craving for the past week.

Behind him, the child lifts a hand. “Mine that’s?”

_“No!”_

Ben grabs at the saber shooting off his belt. Too late. The child summons it towards his own unstretched hand, and Ben reaches out to stop it, and the saber hovers in midair between them, pulled equally in two directions.

Ben grits his teeth. “That’s. Not. A. Toy.”

The child simply flexes its fingers, pulling on the Force and resisting _Ben Solo_...

Whoosh! The saber abruptly somersaults and hurtles towards Ben, nearly smacking him in the nose. He ducks just in time, and it flies past him into Rey’s waiting grip.

“Saved you again,” she smirks.

He gazes at her, his eyes even wider with wonder than the child’s. “You have no idea.”

.

Rey and Ben awaken to a disturbance in the Force.

“I’ll go.” He presses a kiss to the back of Rey’s neck before rising to visit the nursery.

The child tosses on its bed, blanket kicked to the floor. Though still asleep, his eyes dart restless under their lids.

Ben lifts him up, hands tucked gently under his head and legs, and the child opens eyes bright with tears. When Ben reaches out with the Force, he finds flashes of darkness: straps and knives. Imperial relics poking where they never belonged.

“Who would’ve guessed,” he murmurs. “We have the same nightmares.”

The child lets out a little whimper.

“Do you know what helps me? I close my eyes.”

He closes his eyes, and the child follows a second later.

“Now feel for the light.”

Ben breathes deep and calm, the slightest smile playing on his lips.

“Do you feel her?”

They open their eyes again, and he tickles the child’s ears, earning a wispy giggle.

“That’s how I know it’ll all be all right.”

.

When they return to land, Rey trains with the child bound to her back. He bounces and cackles with joy as she dances around Ben, brandishing her saber. When she tires quickly— from the extra weight, perhaps— she retreats to the venerable Jedi texts.

Ben serves up a cup of her newest odd favorite— extra-strength tarine tea— crinkling his nose all the while.

“This is undrinkable,” he declares. “But I left another pot brewing if you want it.”

Rey thanks him and returns to her studies. Newly freed, the child teeters around her, rummaging through the knick-knacks Ben’s insisted on buying her as they travel the galaxy. Yet the kitsch quickly bores him, and he instead approaches Rey’s open book, hands extended.

“Oh, you want to learn to be a Jedi?” Rey says, exaggerating her pitch for his benefit and beaming. “All right, well…” She turns to a page full of pictures. “See that circle, the black and the white all mixed up? _That_ is a symbol of balance. The dark side and the light side, always bound in harmony.”

She keeps up her explanation, and he watches intently, beyond fascinated. Smiling to herself, she finishes off her tea and visits the kitchen for another cup…

And returns to find her books thrown open with brand-new rips in the pages, plus a scrap of paper dangling telltale from the child’s mouth. Sensing her burst of horror, Ben comes running.

“Ben,” she gasps. “Ben, he _ate the ancient Jedi texts.”_

“How?”

“I left him alone with them,” she says, words speeding with alarm, “because he seemed interested and I thought it was because he’s so deeply connected to the Force—”

“But he just thought they tasted good?” Ben finishes. He glances at her refilled cup. “Well, if I had a choice between them and your tea—”

“Ben!”

He sighs and bends down to inspect the damage.

“How much did he get?” she demands.

“At first glance, we lost a treatise on the advantages of planning long-term strategies, as well as multiple odes to patience.”

“...So not the end of the world, then.”

“We were never going to use those,” he observes wryly.

.

They fight the child’s nightmares. Rey takes to sleeping with him in her arms, swaddled tight and bundled against her chest. In turn she curls against Ben, his own massive frame draped warm around her, his hand cradling the child’s head.

The child falls asleep before either of them, and in that sweet darkness Rey and Ben whisper.

“At the risk of sounding cocky,” Ben murmurs as his eyes drift closed, “we’re good, raising him.”

“Good thing we’ll have another one soon.”

“Mm,” Ben says, in uncomprehending contentment. 

“This one’ll even learn full sentences before we’re old and gray.”

“...Wait.”

She chuckles as her meaning sets in, as he holds her all the closer.

.

The child reaches out to Ben and Rey one morning, as they all sit down for breakfast. “Mine that’s.”

Ben turns, wondering if there’s a toy behind him. Rey catches on first.

“Yes—” she scoops the child up into a snug embrace— “we are.”


End file.
